Adoption
by PieceOfShit96
Summary: Trigger warning: definitely don't read this one if you're triggered. Otis is rescued from his abusive parents, and put into a foster care home.
1. Chapter 1

The little boy shook and shuddered under his father's weight. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. He was growing weak, and his will was diminishing. How much longer could he go without food? How many bones could his father break? How many times could his mother whip him? Did he even want to keep surviving? What was the point of this suffering? He could feel his weakness, a monster growing ever closer to him. In a few days, he knew he would die. Would he fight to make it longer?

"FREEZE!" He heard the crashing of doors and a sound he only recognized as a gun being cocked. He began to sob in fear, knowing for sure that he would be shot, and would die with the last sensation on this earth being his father raping him. He heard that ascerbic laugh.

"You really want me to freeze in the position I'm in right now? You gonna take me into custody with my dick in his ass?"

"Remove yourself from the child, sir. Step away from him."

"Let me at least finish, first." He cackled.

"STEP AWAY. NOW."

He noticed his father's hand reach behind him, and felt a sharp sensation in his stomach as his abdomen exploded with a horrific pain.

He felt his father being pulled away, heard the sounds of him being beaten. He could only lie there, unable to move.

"Get the kid! Get the kid!"

He felt warm hands roll him onto his back as he coughed. He saw red; he was spitting up blood. He began to shake in fear. This was it. This was the end. He had thought he had had a few more days, at least. Maybe a weak. But that monster hiding in the corner had just pounced on him.

"Son of a bitch stabbed him!" The woman pressed a cloth to his stomach, and he cried out in pain. "Shhhh, baby. It's alright. It's okay. Just relax. Just relax. We're here to help you, I promise."

He was aware of the fact he was stark naked, but he couldn't make his mind focus enough to know what he should do about it. His brain was foggy and fading. He looked at his hands, covered in blood and holding something warm and slimy.

"Fuck, fucker gutted the poor kid. Get a medic in here, NOW! MOVE MOVE MOVE!"

Those were his organs. He was holding his own organs. He moaned, begging the darkness to take over quickly. He was in so much pain. He was so cold.

"It's okay. We're going to take you somewhere safe, okay? Just stay with me."

He moaned, coughing again.

"I know you're scared. But we're here to help you."

He felt his eyes roll back in his head and his world went black.

"We lost him. MOVE! COME ON!",The little boy's lifeless form was carted into the ambulance, medics working frantically on him as they traveled to the hospital.

The trauma bay looked like a massacre had taken place. The doctor sighed, hanging his head between his legs as he rested.

"Sir?" A nurse approached slowly, unsure if she should interrupt.

"That was...horrible."

"That little boy?"

"That was the worse abuse case I've ever seen. And I hope to God I never see one worse than that..."

"Is he going to make it?" She dared.

"Barely, if he does." He sighed again. "What kind of sick bastards do that...? Did you see him?"

"I was there with you, stabilizing him..."

"I'm sorry, I was working so fast I didn't even see you..."

"It's alright. I understand."

"He's going to need a lot of care."

"He's in very bad shape."

"Well, yes but mentally. I can't...imagine what kind of trauma he's been put through. Poor kid's gotta be a wreck. The damage alone that I could see in his rectum means that...the way they found him was definitely not the first time. And it was chronic. Those scars alone..."

"He must've been so scared."

"So hungry. So cold. In so much pain. Take your pick. But he's safe now. That's what we have to focus on." He stood, stretching. "Would you mind being his...his person, I guess? His main caretaker. I imagine you'll need to build trust with him and I don't want to switch so much that it stresses him."

"Of course. I'll be here on the day shifts, then."

"Perfect." He started away, still shaking his head.

She snuck into the room that night, sitting and holding the boy's hand, watching him breathe, watching his heart rate. Willing him to fight to wake up in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

When he awoke, he felt heavy and groggy. Daring to open his eyes a crack, he saw a clean, brightly lit room, all white with blue trim. He felt warm and comfortable, although he was in monumental pain, he was still resting comfortably on a mattress, a soft pillow behind his head. Where was he?

"There he is. Finally coming around to say hello." A woman smiled down at him. She looked sweet and loving, but he had learned not to trust people so easily. "You've had quite a day, haven't you? You're safe now. So just relax."

He could only manage a pathetic whimper.

"Ohh, it's okay sweetheart. You're in the hospital. Safe and sound. Those terrible people are locked away. They can't get you here." She picked up his chart, flipping through the pages. "Looks like you're all banged up though. My goodness. A dislocated shoulder, a four times fractured pelvis.18 broken ribs. Severe whipping wounds, severe bruising patterns. That stab wound. Internal bleeding from your sexual assault...You poor thing. You poor, poor boy...And you're dehydrated and emaciated...What house of horrors did they pull you out of?"

He tried to speak, but it only came out as a grunt, also muffled by the oxygen mask over his face.

"Don't try to talk on my account. You save your strength. You'll need it to get better." She sighed. "Oh, I can't believe this happened to you. You poor, sweet thing..."

He blinked slowly, processing her words.

"Are you in any pain, lovey? Oh...What a stupid question, of course you are..." She dosed him with another painkiller; he felt the warm, luscious sensation wash over his body. "Of course you're in pain, all you went through. It would be no wonder you'd ache."

He wanted to open his eyes more, to look around, to see where he was. But he just couldn't manage it.

"Do you want me to read to you?" She asked. He stared at her, unsure of what to do in answer. "I'll read to you. How about a nice story?"

She sat in a chair next to his bed and read him a book. He smiled internally. He loved this! Loved having positive attention and feeling like he was a welcome guest, not a burden. When she was finished, she closed the book and placed it on the table beside his bed.

"Your...abusers were your parents...And they said they didn't name you, sweetheart...You don't have a name?"

He feebly shook his head.

"I'm so sorry...I really, truly feel horribly for you. I wish with all my heart you hadn't had to go through what you did." She sighed. "I want you to think about a name for yourself, okay? what you would like to be called. Okay?"

He nodded weakly, smiling slightly.

"Think about happy things, sweetheart. Your life is going to be better from now on. Okay?" She exited the room, shutting his door behind her.

The next day, he felt somewhat more alive and less like a ragdoll that had been run over on the freeway. Not much better, but there was an improvement.

"Good morning, sweetheart." His nurse smiled at him. "You look a little better today! Want some breakfast?"

He could only stare back at her. Was he actually going to be fed?

She gently pulled his oxygen mask away from his mouth, resting it on his chest. "Ohh, you poor baby look at your little lips. They're all split and cracked and bloody." She gingerly dabbed a napkin on his mouth, wiping away the blood. She then cut up a piece of toast into tiny squares, skewering pieces on the fork. "Come on, eat just a little bit for me. Can you do that?"

Warily taking a bite, he grimaced at the copper tang of blood in his mouth. His father had always been so rough when making him perform oral sex...

As she fed him, he noticed the soft, warm smile on her face, and hoped that he would never lose the image of what that smile looked like, in comparison to the scowls his parents had always worn.

"Sweetie? Can you talk a little bit?"

"Try..." He managed, raspy and weak.

"Do you know what you want us to call you? Have you thought about it at all?"

He smirked. "Otis..."

"Okay, Otis. Otis it is." She smiled. "You have the cutest smile in the whole world. I can't wait to see you get better."

"Where...?"

"You're in the hospital, remember sweetie?"

He nodded. "Where...will I go?"

"Oh! Well...You'll go to a foster home. Where you'll stay until someone adopts you."

"Don't...want to go back..."

"You'll never have to, sweetheart. You'll never ever have to go back there again. That part of your life is over."

Otis sighed, relaxing slightly.

"How are you feeling today, honey? Be honest with me. How's your pain?"

"It hurts...Bad. Hurts to breathe."

"We'll get you something to make it hurt less, okay?"

"I can take it..."

"But you don't have to, love...You never have to hurt like that again." She paused, stroking his hand slightly. "You're very lucky to be alive, you know that? You're very seriously injured..." Cocking her head, she squinted at him. "Were you sick, sweetie? Is that why your head is shaved?"

"No..."

"Do you like it that way?"

"No..."

"Then...why...?"

"Lice...Bugs...too much work for them...Not worth their time."

"You are worth the time, dear. You are worth time and you are worth effort. Don't let anyone say you're not. Ever again."

"Why...?"

"Why what?"

"Would...They lie?"

"They lied because they're terrible people, honey. Do you think good people would do this to you?"

"I'm bad..."

"Even if you were a bad child, which I don't believe for a minute, you don't deserve this. Maybe a smack on the bum or something like that but not this...Never this."

"But...Why..."

"I don't know honey. I don't understand, either." Standing, she pulled the blanket away from him. "I'm just going to look at your belly, okay? Where you got cut. It's okay."

He whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly. Having blankets and sheets pulled away from him always meant a storm was coming.

"Relax sweetie. Just relax." She tenderly checked the wound, smiling softly at him. "It's okay, dear. No one will hurt you anymore. Oh goodness...Look at those bruises...Oh my god."

Tears rolled down his face. "I-I...didn't know..."

"Didn't know what, sweetheart."

"I didn't know it...was th...that bad...I-I...Isn't...This...h-how it is?"

"No, sweetie...This is not what a little boy's life is supposed to be like."

"Th...Then why? Why would they do this...?"

She sighed ruefully. "I wish I knew sweetheart..."


End file.
